


i see beauty in everything but me

by teddy bear (sundhime)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Insomnia, Late night cuddles, M/M, Multi, References to Depression, References to anxiety, Self destruction, Smoking, a whole lot of pining from them and obliviousness from bunny boy, based off personal experiences, both johnny and ten like doyoung, but they make sure to make him feel loved and happy, dojohnten, doyoung doesn't feel that its real, doyoung is a sad mess, johnny and ten are loving boyfriends and doyoung moves in with them, johnny is a gentle giant who wants to help but just breaks things on accident, johnny smokes, johten adore doyoung, kshjkdgkd johhny is just a huge sweetie, mentions of self harm, really angsty and shit??? but i swear it gets softer, ten is a dance instructor, they all just want to help each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundhime/pseuds/teddy%20bear
Summary: dongyoung moves in with boyfriends johnny and ten. they explore their emotions together, going through hardships and doubt with each other. ten and johnny grow to love do, but first he needs to learn how to love himself.





	1. who am i?

**Author's Note:**

> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856344  
> kshkhdkd i feel so stupid bc this ^ is my fic and i accidentally orphaned it while fucking around on my page ｡ﾟヽ(ﾟ´Д｀)ﾉﾟ｡  
> but uh here it is, written again! woohoo  
> (does include some changes hehe)
> 
> warning: this will include mentions of depression, not eating, and at one point it may include mentions of cutting.

_What is the point?_   

These words hung heavy in Dongyoung's mind as if they were branded there, singed into his red-hot brain and ringing in his ears uncontrollably. He tried to chase them away but his mind had been permanently imprinted with crippling self-doubt and criticism. 

Thinking back, Dongyoung could never remember a moment where he was not unhappy; his life seemed to be a pitifully sad loop of unfortunate happenings. However, this mix of pain, fear, anger and hopelessness was not new to the 23-year-old boy as he has struggled to deal with his life with people around him and most importantly himself, his whole life. 

Not a day went by that Dongyoung didn't feel utterly hopeless and insecure; in fact, it was those insecurities that ate away at his thoughts and drained them like hungry leeches eager to drain every last ounce of blood.   
Dongyoung couldn't help but sigh for what seemed the millionth time in the last hour. He sat alone in his tiny apartment that to anyone else would seem practically cell-like, but to him, it all seemed to still be despairingly big and depressing.  

There were many reasons Dongyoung did not like people he didn’t know, but he could never deal with closeness, conversations and all their mess and disorganization (or even just having different placements for objects), as well as that Dongyoung was positive that no one in their right mind would ever want to spend time living with someone who had depression and anxiety as well as his mental instability and complex outlook on life. 

His white bed sheets crumbled beneath him as he flopped meekly down on top of them. Pulling himself into a small compact ball, he nibbled at the top of his thumb as a comfort habit he never really abandoned in his childhood. His arms still tingled and stung as they moved across the rough fabric. Despite his long sleeved, over-sized, chunky-knit, fluffy jumper, his arms prickled with the indirect contact making him wince out of sheer discomfort but that discomfort was still an emotion, an emotion he could feel and pin point exactly and that felt, in an odd sort of painful way, comforting. 

The dark rings around his tired, lifeless eyes stood out prominently on his chalky pale skin. Anyone with eyes could see that Dongyoung was having a rough time. 

The claustrophobic apartment that seemed way too big with its cream walls, white blinds, small, cramped twin beds, brown wooden desk and bookshelf with every last book and pen placed in their correct position, the tiny kitchen area with its white microwave, mini-fridge, kettle and toaster. He had been so used to living in dorms (by himself) that it came to him as a relief that he had his own bathroom; Dongyoung found himself breaking down in his bathroom, crying into the rug and cursing himself out in the mirror at random times.   
After reading one of his many  ** _'HOW TO NOT FEEL LIKE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT'_**  books, Dongyoung had once tried decorating the room to make it seem more quote-on-quote 'homely' but this proved problematic.   
First, he tried pinning up some of his older artwork but the more he stared at them the more flaws he saw and after a while, he became sick at the sight of them and hated ever since one of his pieces. He had tried to unstick them from the wall of but the cheap off-brand blu-tack ripped off the paint leaving ugly paint-less splodges across his wall. 

Dongyoung had a box of neatly folded, colorful origami cranes that he made every time he felt unhappy. He had been making cranes as a coping strategy since he was around 10 or 11 years old. Over the years he had collected hundreds of the paper birds, possibly thousands, and one day he started threading a clear string through them and hung each one from the ceiling. It took many a few days of stringing and hanging the delicately ornate paper before ever crane was suspended in the air but once it was done it, even Dongyoung found it a little impressive. 

Despite everything, something still was not right but there was nothing logical that he could think of to make anything right now. 

Looking up from his ball, Dongyoung notices the outside world has gotten lighter and realizes he lost track of the time. Pulling his phone off the dresser-turned-bedside-table, the time on the screen read 10:27.   
With a groan, Dongyoung knows he has to eat something because he hasn't eaten anything since his unsatisfying microwaved pot-noodle at lunch (which was yesterday). When he opens the fridge, he is annoyed to realize he only has pot noodles and milk in there. He was not prepared to eat pot noodles again today so that called for asking Ten to bring him something on his way here. He shoots him a quick message before tossing his phone away from him. 

He had discussed moving in with Ten, a high school friend who had seen him at both his best and worst (his best wasn’t much different than his worse, he was always fucked up back in high school) and his boyfriend, Johnny, another close friend of his, and today they had offered to come over and help him move his things into the new room he would be provided with. He goes to his incredibly tiny bathroom, deciding to try to make his appearance a bit livelier, in courtesy of getting out to see his childhood friend and his lover. He entered the bathroom and left the door open, staring at his reflection above the sink. 

Mirrors- Dongyoung hates them. They only remind him how rough and horrible he looks all the time, but there was no escaping them, especially in a bathroom.  

Dongyoung inspects his face in the equally as tiny mirror the bathroom provided, sliding his hand against the growing stubble along his jaw and passing it over his eyes wearily. He chews the fleshiest parts of the inside of his cheeks. The skin is already dead and bunched together from constant abuse. He knows he had plenty of bad habits he needs to take care of, but as it is, he's much more focused on how he had chosen that day in particular to fall into one of his moods. He tightly holds the sink and continues inspecting himself in the mirror.  

He isn't satisfied with what he sees. 

Tired eyes stare from unsettling eye bags that make him look like he hasn't slept in 4 days (which, if we're gonna be honest, wasn't far from the truth). His nose was too large for him, too annoying and loud on his face. His cheeks were too full, he muses, and he decides then to lay off his meals for a couple days. He studies his face carefully, pulling at his skin. His eyes are burning but dry as a summer desert. They are bloodshot and this is highlighted and exaggerated by the deep purple bags forming under his eyes. His skin is extremely pale as if all the blood had been drained from his body and his young skin seems to droop miserably from his thin framed face.  

To see how it looked, he smiles at himself but it just looks wrong and forced and ugly so he lets it fall back to his permanent disapproving frown. 

His black hair is greasy and messy; it hadn't been straightened or brushed or tamed or anything in a few days so he yanks at every thick strand, pulling it painfully with a brush that hadn't been touched in a long time. Without thinking, he turns on a tap and rolls his sleeves up so he could proceed to splash his face pathetically with freezing water in a strained attempt to look 'presentable'.  

He looks down at his exposed arms and sighs yet again. Every freshly red or still searing white line that plagued his skin is a constant reminder of how much he hated himself. His lips part and a puff of air escapes, and suddenly Dongyoung is crying, his tears escaping his eyes and getting caught on his eyelashes and he really doesn't get why he's crying right now- And the door gets banged and he hears Ten's loud voice announcing he was here, along with the softer undertones of Johnny's calmer volume. 

He quickly wipes the tears away along with the slightly disgusting stream of snot that dribbles out of his nose from the crying. He walks out the bathroom and smiles weakly at Ten, who immediately notices his red face and bloodshot eyes. "Doyoung?" He tilts his head and lets out some air. "Wanna continue packing? I'll get to filter the good clothes and toss away your ugly stuff, finally." 

Ten inspects his friend’s face in a care that makes Dongyoung itch. He opens his mouth to ask him if he was alright- and Dongyoung smiles at him, shaking his head. "It was nothing, just looking at myself for a while." Ten looks at Dongyoung's back warily. He knows it's the worst when you start looking at yourself and he knows from experience that it isn't a nice sensation, hating yourself for no reason other than being there. But he wants to be happy for Dongyoung because they all know he's trying, and he knows it's best to keep his mind off things instead of pursuing the matter. So he grins cheerily back at Dongyoung as he turns back around and suddenly Johnny appears in the doorway, struggling with the boxes Dongyoung has already packed and put aside.  

"Do, where should I put these? Did you want me to put them at the back of my trunk or are there other priority things?" Dongyoung tilts his head and inspects his boxes.  

"You can head out and put them in the truck, yeah, thank you so much Johnny." He nodded with a gentle smile and continues heading out. Ten pinches his cheeks fondly.  

"Let's finish packing? We already have your room emptied and ready, all we need is your stuff and yourself." 

Dongyoung bit the inside of his cheek again and nodded.  

"Are you sure you don't mind me moving in? I feel like I'm intruding on you and Johnny."  

Ten sighed and grabbed his nose while the bunny boy huffed and spluttered in annoyance. "We've already told you, dummie, we already live together in one bedroom so you taking Johnny's old room is honestly no issue. He never stays there anyways," Ten continued with a sly grin.  

"He's too busy making messes in my room."  

"Ugh, Ten, that's... fine, Ten." His grin relaxes and he looks at the bunny-like boy in front of him. "Let's go?" Ten asks with such softness that Dongyoung is tempted to cry again, but he holds it in even though he knows Ten wouldn't comment on anything he knew wasn't an issue. Ten notices this, however, notices the wetness around Dongyoung's eyes and the unnatural shininess of it, how his eyes widen just a bit and he sniffles.  

Ten wordlessly pulls him into a hug and Dongyoung feels even more like crying, a sinking feeling going down his throat and melting into heavy weight at his chest. He hugs back.  

"Let's go, Ten." 


	2. i am what

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> doyoung can't sleep and fully realizes he isnt the only person with problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy the chapter! sorry for the late update :(

Dongyoung flopped onto his new, bare white bed, the cloth crinkling beneath his body. He stared unseeingly at the cranes hung from a white string in a room he wasn't familiar with. He lifted his hand and pointed, imagining that the bumps on the ceiling were stars. He lost himself in the kaleidoscope of his thoughts and startled when he heard shuffling coming from outside his room.

He sat up, staring at his closed door with narrowed eyes. Dongyoung slid off the bed and his socks muffled the sound of his feet as he padded away, glancing carelessly at the clock residing on his bedside table as he headed out.

The red numbers blinked in and out of existence.

He trailed his fingers wistfully along the walls as he walked along the corridor, trying to find the source of the noise. Dongyoung noticed the outline of a shadow in the balcony and squeezed through the small gap the glass sliding doors offered. He inched closer and carefully placed his hand on the person’s shoulder.

They jolted and turned around, and through the flicker of a lighter, Johnny’s face lit eerily.

“Dear lord, Dongyoung, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing up so late?”

Dongyoung opened his mouth and closed it again. “I heard you and headed out to check what was going on.”

Johnny moved his hand behind his back and ran his other, spare hand through his hair. “It’s 2 in the morning, Do. You should go get some sleep. You haven’t even slept yet, have you?”

Dongyoung shook his head and looked to the ground, clutching the sleeves of the hoodie that was 3 sizes too big on him. “I can’t sleep. I... I didn’t even know it was this late, to be honest.”

Johnny tilted his head and sighed. “Do you want me to do something for you?”

He fidgeted under his gaze and eased onto a seat. “Could we just sit?”

Johnny nodded and pulled out the stool next to Dongyoung. He pulled back the hand he had behind his back. In his slender fingers was an unlit cigarette and a steel pocket lighter.

"Mind if I smoke?"

Dongyoung nodded his head hesitantly. "Yeah, that's fine."

Dongyoung watched silently as Johnny lazily placed the cigarette between his lips. He lit the lighter and held the head of the cigarette on the flame.

Johnny pulled it away and watched as the hints of red slowly climbed up. He held it between the second and third knuckles of his index and middle fingers and inhaled slowly, his cheeks hollowing and he held that position for a few seconds before retracting the cigarette and exhaling softly. A cloud of smoke billowed out from his mouth and nose.

Dongyoung reached out and tapped Johnny’s thigh hesitantly. “Can I give it a try?”

Johnny regarded him silently and when Dongyoung didn’t break eye contact, he nodded in resignation and pulled another cigarette out of the pack.

Dongyoung grabbed both the cigarette and the lighter from Johnny and tried to imitate what he saw him do. He lit the cherry of the cig and puffed at it tediously, allowing the smoke to gather in his mouth before blowing it out.

A large hand suddenly plucked it away from his mouth.

“That isn’t how you smoke it, Young. You have to inhale it, you know? Breathe it in, don’t waste the cigarette trying to look cool.”

Dongyoung scowled and grabbed it again. He did what Johnny instructed him to do- he sucked in his cheeks and inhaled quickly. He coughed in surprise, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. “Ah, shit.”

Johnny chuckled in fond amusement. “See the difference? This way the smoke actually enters your lungs.”

Dongyoung did it again and coughed once more.

He giggled softly and held the cigarette between his thumb and index finger. He moved it to his major knuckles and immediately dropped it. He cursed, face turning red as he picked it off his lap. It was still lit, so he brought it up to his mouth for another drag.

“Why do you do it?”

Johnny looked up. “What?”

Dongyoung gestured vaguely at the death stick they both held. “Sure, it feels a bit good, but.”

Johnny slumped over. “But what?”

“But what’s the purpose? I don’t like it. Isn’t it just corroding your body?”

He smiled and took a final drag of the cigarette before dropping it on the floor. With a quick twist of his foot, the sole of his sneakers snuffed it out. “Instead of killing myself, at least this way I know that my death will be closer.”

Dongyoung went silent. Johnny continued with the same smile on his face. “I’ve tried it before. Killing myself, I mean. Twice, actually. The first time was in high school. I got a couple of old pill bottles I found in our family’s fridge.”

He grinned, not kindly. Dongyoung’s eyes darted to his hands, where he saw him clench them tightly.

Dongyoung grabbed Johnny’s hand, ignoring the taste of pain that jolted through him when Johnny dug his nails into his palm.

“I took all of them at the same time, you know? I supposed it’d be both quick and... less messy, compared to shooting myself or jumping off a building. And it was scary, not because I was dying, but- god, how I wanted to fucking die, to let go of it all- but it felt good. That’s what scares me. When I took them, the pills, I felt like I was floating. I felt weightless, you know? And tired, so tired.”

He pulled his hand away and tucked it under his thighs. “They found me, though. They-”

He stopped abruptly and Dongyoung looked for the trace of tears or sadness in the eyes of the man next to him. He found nothing but a hint of wistfulness.

“The second time, I decided to go easy and quick, to just jump off a building. I took a friend’s card to this dance building or something. It was pretty tall, had about ten? Twelve stories? So I went to the top floor, found the stairs and went onto the roof. I didn’t even wait to think, just stood over the edge. Right when I was gonna lean off, Ten came up and caught me.” He chuckled fondly. “That bastard.”

“He made me promise not to try it anymore, and I haven’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to die, but. I’m doing it, I’m working on it for Ten, yeah? It’s hard, but I want him to be happy.”

Dongyoung smiled softly. “Anything for Ten.”

Johnny laughed. “Yeah.” He tilted towards Dongyoung again and hesitantly reached for his hand once more.

He smiled softly and laced his fingers with Johnny’s. “So it’s a kinda stupid reason, but smoking gives me the comfort of knowing that instead of actually killing myself, I’m just speeding it up a little.”

He patted his hand. “I bet you didn’t want that sob story, huh. Sorry for making you listen to all that.”

Dongyoung shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You guys have already dealt with all of my bullshit, I should at least hear you out.”

“Does it feel the same way for you?”

Dongyoung held his breath for a while. “No. I’m not... uh... suicidal, I don’t wanna die, I just wanna be able to feel alright for once. I’m tired of always feeling like this, like I can’t do anything. But if you still feel like this, don't you think we should find help?"

Johnny looked away and stood abruptly. “We should go inside now. You need sleep, and I don’t want Ten to wake up without me there.”   
Dongyoung pressed his lips together but nodded, releasing the subject, and followed him back inside.

They turned the lights off behind them and illuminated by the screen of Johnny’s phone, they walked to Dongyoung’s room.   
He held his hands close to his body and breathed in deeply, swallowing the horrid taste of self-hatred and anxiety.

They walked in and Dongyoung headed towards the bed.

“Hey,” Johnny whispered, his face reflected by the screen of his phone.

Johnny sat down on the side of the bed, next to Dongyoung. “Are you okay?"

“Yeah,” Dongyoung answered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Johnny shrugged. “I don’t know.” He was looking at Dongyoung with an odd sadness, and Dongyoung couldn’t do anything about it other than guide him close to him, by the back of Johnny’s collar, and hold him, letting himself be held by Johnny as well, his arms wrapping around his waist.

Johnny buried his face into the crook of Dongyoung’s neck. “Sorry,” Johnny whispered. Dongyoung just squeezed him tighter. Johnny could smell Dongyoung’s cologne, and underneath that, the scent of old, reused clothes and unwashed hair, but, still, he lifted his head up and lightly kissed Dongyoung on the cheek and felt, for the first time in days, freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, im sorry for updating so late, i posted it before but after reading it again i felt like it was, tbf, shit. ive been in a bad place these past few weeks, and kinda got back on my feet last weekend. ive actually started this chapter a while ago, but i kept feeling like it wasnt /good/ enough. finally got over the intrusive thoughts a bit, so heres the chapter? i really hope you enjoyed it. i definitely accept criticism, so dont be scared to be as blunt as possible when telling me how to fix something.   
> i doubt most people will read this, lol, but again, sorry and thank you! ♥♥♥


	3. what's the reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ten wakes up alone, and in a panic, sinks back into unwanted thoughts and needs to clear his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song of the chapter: B JYUN. - 천재.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjI8uqVebuM

\- song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjI8uqVebuM) - 

Ten blinked drowsily, wincing as the hints of a headache began showing.

He turned to his side, ready to find Johnny's sleeping face next to him, but saw nothing except for the empty expanse of the queen bed. He sat up, eyes wide as he pressed two fingers to the base of his forehead in a slight panic. The pain became sharper and he decided to wash his face and see how it could help.

With a long sigh, Ten rolled off the side, covers still wrapped messily around his shoulders and legs. He trudged silently to their dresser, tugging a drawer open and pulling out a clean outfit.

He shimmied out of his shorts and, about to pull his shirt over his head, suddenly froze.

 _If you can't even love yourself, how can you possibly expect_ him _to love you._

Ten closed his eyes for a few seconds, just standing there with his hands clenched around the hem of his t-shirt. The voice seemed to come from somewhere in the room.

_I'm not even suited for loving. He doesn't care about me, does he? Look at him, he left you._

This one resonated in his head and he winced, scrunching his eyes closed tighter. He moved to sit on the bed but missed horribly and instead stumbled onto the floor, landing harshly on his knees.

_You're worthless._

_No one cares about you, you're just a burden. If you left right now no one would even know or care._

The tears began to run, dripping warm and fat down his cheeks as the voices continued to echo. He grabbed his hair, yanking furiously until the pain became unbearable, until he felt like his scalp would get ripped off, and yet he still tugged. He bit his lip and lost himself, biting down hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste spread in his mouth and he disgustedly scratched at his tongue with his fingers.

He cried harder.

Still on his knees, Ten crawled to the nearest bathroom, stumbling and falling on his chest. He lifted himself up with his arm shakily, wincing as he applied pressure on his bruising knees.

He grabbed the handle of the door and pushed it open. He dragged himself further, reaching for the side of the bath tub and harshly jerking. His arm felt like it was going to pop out of it's socket, but he managed to pull himself closer to the bathtub. He fumbled with the faucet for a bit before turning it and letting the water run for a while.

The trickling of the faucet gave him something to focus on a bit more, but it wasn't enough. All he could hear was his own voice, the whispers swelling and pushing against his skull. He rocked back and forth rhythmically as more phrases spilled out of his mouth nonsensically.

Ten continued crying, the sobs hard enough that he felt like his midriff was about to split in two. He pressed his hands against his ears roughly, trying to block out what was tormenting him, but it did absolutely nothing.

He turned the faucet on fully, the roar of the water right next to him drowning out the unwanted thoughts.

Ten left the faucet running, the tears that had rushed down his cheeks as steadily as the pouring stream in the tub drying messily. He took in a deep breath, his nose leaking. He wiped it, the mess spreading along his upper lip and hand.

 He wiped his hand again, this time on the edge of his shirt, and put his hands into the cold water. He watched silently as the water slipped between his fingers. He pressed his fingers closer together, cupping his hands, and brought the water up to his face, the briskness snapping him out of it fully.

He stood, wincing at the aching in his legs and trailed back into his room, his fingers pressing lightly on the walls he passed. 

Ten checked the time, eyes squinting, and grabbed his phone before collapsing onto the bed. He took another deep breath, rubbing at his eyes, before he unlocked his mobile and shot a quick text to Johnny.

 

**_to: young hoe_ **

_-where r u_

 

He sighed and tossed the phone away. He knew where he was- by now, Johnny was probably on the turnpike, on his way to work. He closed his eyes and placed his arm over his eyes.

The ding from his phone sent him shooting up once more.

 

**_from: young hoe_ **

_-Omw to work, how about you? Doing good?_

_-How's Do?_

 

Ten scratched the back of his neck carelessly.

 

**_to: young hoe_ **

_-idk havent checked yet, i jus woke up_

_-*just_

_-why? is smthn wrong w him?_

 

**_from: yo_ _ung hoe_ **

_-Nothing's wrong,_ _dw about it. Just wanted to check on you two._

 

 Ten’s fingers hovered above the keyboard of his phone hesitantly. He pressed the characters slowly.  

 

 **_to: young hoe_ ** 

 _-do you love me?_  

 

He sighed, stressed, and ran a hand through his hair. His scalp still ached from how he pulled it before. His thumb pressed on his message ad he was ready to delete it right when he got a reply.

 

**_from: young hoe_ **

_-Of course I love you, baby. Are you ok? Do u want me to come home?_

 

Ten scrunched his nose and blew out with puckered lips. 

 

**_to: young hoe_ **

_-no dont come idwt bother u or anything_

_-just don't stay too late, ok? i'_ _ll make dinner_

 

He left the phone on the nightstand and rolled off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor. He stayed there for a full minute, ignoring the short burst of buzzes coming from his phone.

He rose, snatching a pair of jeans and a new shirt from the dresser and walked out the door, shimmying into his jeans on his way out.

Ten peeked into Dongyoung's room and smiled softly at the figure of the sleeping male.

He left, closing the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> in no way or form am i romanticizing these thoughts, it's an actual issue day to day people go through, and i encourage you to get professional help if u begin to feel like you need it. this is made from my own background and exp, and it has a lot of my own habits tied into my characters. it also has what i consider coping factors for myself, and to each their own. i hope you enjoy!


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